Big Day
by Miss Romance-Lover
Summary: Stendan. One-shot story that could act as a sequel to Ringing It In.


**A fluffy Stendan wedding one-shot. I couldn't help myself, even though it's been done so many times before by much better writers! Hope you like it anyway :) **

Big Day

"Ye look good enough to eat, Steven. Marry me."

Ste rolls his eyes. "I _am_ marrying you, you soft git."

Brendan runs his hands over the tie Ste is wearing. "Lucky me."

They're only a week away from the big day – although it's not exactly 'big' in comparison to Ste's last wedding and that's just how they like it. They've finally sorted the suits, and neither of them are remotely bothered about seeing the other in their outfit. They've had more than enough bad luck already, and a daft superstition isn't going to get in their way now.

"Anyway, you look much more appealing," Ste grins, hands gripping Brendan's suit jacket. "Shame I've got to go to work. Tony'll be snowed under by now."

"That's what your employees are for, Steven – _stay_."

"You know he's keeping the place going while we're away next week, so the least I can do is pull my weight while I'm still here. Go and find Cheryl if you're bored. Or, here's an idea...go and do some work of your own?"

Brendan smirks. "Don't need to – Maxine's in charge for the day."

"I thought you said she was an airhead and you wouldn't trust her to run the club if your life depended on it!"

"That was before I got a life," he replies, pawing at Ste's shirt.

"Very cute, Bren. Later, alright? I really do have to go!"

He chuckles to himself at Brendan's sulky pout, then listens to him making a phone call as he changes out of his suit.

"Chez. Come and rescue me will ye? Steven's abandoning me for the restaurant."

"Drama queen!" He shouts from the bedroom, earning himself a loud grumble from his husband-to-be.

Later, when he and Tony are cleaning up after closing time, Ste is far too jolly considering how hectic their shift has been, and his business partner tells him so.

"Sorry!" he says. "Would you rather I stropped around throwing things, like in the old days?"

"No, but it's very depressing watching the youth of today with all their relentless energy and joy – you're making me feel old."

Ste tries not to laugh. "Oh shut up! 'The youth of today' - you're not _that _much older than me. And you've got plenty to be happy about. Don't let Diane hear you complaining or there'll be trouble."

Tony shakes his head, putting the last chair on top of it's table. "I'm not complaining, Ste. I just wish I had your..what's it called – 'get up and go'? I'm exhausted, how is it that _you're_ not?"

"You need a holiday, mate."

"Ha! That'll be a bit difficult when you're swanning off on honeymoon."

"Maybe you should try it," Ste winks at him.

Tony splutters. "Excuse me?"

"I meant get a move on and book the wedding!"

"Oh. Right, yeah, I suppose it is about time, isn't it?"

"Dead romantic, that is Tony. She'll be swept off her feet," Ste laughs. "But seriously, all the planning for next week, it _has_ given me a spring in my step. I bet when it's your turn you'll be a new man!"

"No cold feet this time, then?" It doesn't seem all that long ago to Tony that the lad had been to see him for advice, wondering whether he was doing the right thing in marrying Doug. Little did anyone know that mere weeks later, Ste would leave for the airport with one man, then come back days later with another.

"You know what, I don't think I've ever been this sure about anything. I'm not saying I'm _not_ scared, but it's a good kind of scared."

Tony claps him on the back. "It's good to see you so happy. I think we're done for the night, anyway, so I'll lock up if you want to get back to Brendan."

"Ta..." Ste stops at the sound of the door opening and is just about to shout that they're closed when he spots his fiancé. "Speak of the devil. What're you doing here?"

"I've come to kidnap ye for your stag night," Brendan announces, a playful glint in his eye. He's still wearing his wedding suit, and despite his use of the word 'kidnap', he seems in no hurry for them to leave.

"Right, in that case I think I'll leave the keys with you," says Tony after half a minute. "Keep it clean please guys, I've just disinfected these tables!"

A minute later and he's gone. Ste turns to Brendan in confusion. "I thought we weren't doing stag nights?"

"_We're_ not. But I don't see why ye can't have a stripper." And with that, he takes off his jacket, drops it to the floor and starts unbuttoning his shirt.

"You're not going to start dancing as well, are you?" Ste grins, rooted to the spot as he watches.

Brendan lets out a chuckle while his fingers work over the buttons. "That'd be pushing ye luck, Steven." He takes his shirt off, reaching for his belt buckle next.

"Okay, home, _now_!" Ste picks up the white shirt and throws it at him, then grabs his coat along with Brendan's jacket and heads straight for the door. Once they're outside, he struggles with the keys, trying to lock the restaurant as speedily as possible.

Getting home has never been so appealing.

* * *

"Chez?"

"Hi love, what's up?"

"Not to sound too panicky, but where the hell is your brother?"

It's 12pm, the ceremony is in an hour, and Brendan's suit is still hanging up in the bedroom. He'd stayed at his sister's the night before – turns out there was at least one traditional superstition they'd wanted to honour – and he'd never come home.

Cheryl's voice rises an octave on the phone. "Please tell me you're joking?"

"Who has time to joke before their wedding?!"

"Alright, point taken. Shit. Well he's not _here_. I didn't actually see him go to bed, now that I think about it...Mitzeee came over to drag him out for a drink, but I stayed in with Nate. You've not heard from either of them?"

Ste sighs.

"Okay, stupid question! Right, I'll call her, you keep trying him. It'll be fine, just carry on getting ready."

He hangs up. He's starting to think he's had this coming. He's spent the last week feeling almost giddy with excitement; he should have known something was bound to go wrong.

He's always known Brendan isn't the jumping for joy, giddy type. But he'd thought he was happy, in his own quiet way. So where the hell is he?

Ringing the same number he's been trying for the last hour or so, Ste runs a hand through his gelled hair and tries not to fall apart. "If you're standing me up, at least have the decency to tell me to my face, Brendan Brady," he announces in a controlled voice before hanging up and throwing his phone on the bed.

He very nearly abandons all attempts to finish getting dressed, but then he thinks, even if he's left standing at the registry office all by himself at least he can hold his head up high. Even though he won't feel like doing it at the time.

Tony turns up ten minutes later, spotting Ste's frazzled state immediately. Oddly, he doesn't shut the door behind him, but the phone rings before he can comment. It's Cheryl.

"Found him. He was with Mitzeee. She's on her way over now to..."

The door clicks shut and he looks up. "She's here. I'll just...see you in a bit."

"Bumped into her on my way over," Tony explains.

Ste looks between them, finally focusing his gaze on the very sheepish looking woman in front of him. "Well?"

Mitzeee holds her hands up in surrender. "It's all my fault! I got him drunk last night."

"He's _hungover_ on our wedding day?"

"Only slightly! I'm sorry Ste, we went a bit heavy on the shots. Well, I did. Brendan was on the whisky."

He drops into a chair. "Please tell me he can walk unaided?"

"It's all good, I promise you. He's conscious, he's remembered what day it is – he's just having a shower so I've come to pick up his suit. It's my fault he overslept, we went back to mine quite late and we were so hammered that neither of us set an alarm."

Ste lets out a breath in mild relief. He still can't quite let go of the thought that Brendan had changed his mind and done a runner on him.

He sends Mitzeee off with the suit, in too much of a hurry to have a go at her.

"You alright?" Tony asks with a tentative smile.

Picking up his phone from the bedroom, Ste finds a text waiting for him, sent only minutes ago. _Of course I'm not standing ye up. I will be sacking Anne later, though. See ye there. _

Wandering back through to the living room, he snorts a laugh and it eases the remaining tension from his body.

"Yeah," he says now. "Let's do this."

* * *

It's a small ceremony, with just Cheryl and Tony as witnesses. The real celebration is supposed to be the gathering at the club afterwards, but Ste had never been that fussed, knowing Amy wouldn't take the kids out of school to bring them.

He had just wanted to be Brendan's husband, and now that he is, he feels content. He could go home right now, knowing he's a Brady, and be perfectly happy. His new hubby has other ideas, though.

"Steven, we are going to our wedding reception and ye _will_ enjoy it."

"Is that an order?" he moans, but he's hiding a smirk. "Also since when were we calling it an actual reception? I thought it was just going to be Cheryl, Nate and a few of the others with a couple of bottles of champagne?"

Brendan says nothing, just keeps driving until less than two minutes later he's parking the car at Chez Chez. He leads Ste up the steps and opens the door, and all at once he hears several bottles being opened along with a loud cheer. When they walk in the bubbly is being poured and they're each handed a glass.

It takes him a further minute to realise what's so unexpected about the scene, other than the multiplied amount of champagne. Amy is standing next to the bar, with Leah and Lucas in front of her.

Ste looks at a smiling Brendan, puts down his drink and then crosses the room to reach them. He scoops the kids into his arms and gives Amy a confused look. She had been much more accepting of their relationship over the past year, but the wedding had seemed to be a step too far for her.

"Changed my mind at the last minute," she shrugs.

"I can see that," he laughs, still shocked. "Why?"

"Something Leah said after she got off the phone to you and Brendan last night. She and Lucas really wanted to come, and I can see how happy you are, so...I'm happy for you. Congratulations, Ste."

Ste puts their son and daughter down and hugs her, knowing it must have taken a lot for her to say it. "Thank you."

"I can't believe I'm about to say this, but you should be thanking that husband of yours. He drove down to pick us up this morning when the trains got cancelled. He really does love you to bits, doesn't he."

He vaguely recalls putting on the news when he woke up and hearing about a railway strike. Now the penny drops: Brendan wasn't running late because he was in an alcohol-induced coma. He was driving to and from Manchester to collect Ste's children and their mother.

Turning around and spotting him chatting to Cheryl and Nate, Ste strides over to Brendan, takes his face in his hands and kisses him like no-one's watching.

They're both dizzy when they pull apart. "I should've known you weren't hungover. You look far too good."

"Ah," Brendan smiles softly. "Amy told ye, then?"

"Why did you let me think you were sleeping off a pub crawl?" Ste shakes his head in disbelief.

"Couldn't spoil the surprise, could I? Told ye ye'd enjoy yourself though."

"So you weren't wasted last night, then?"

"Give me _some_ credit, Steven," Brendan says, raising an eyebrow at him. "I had two drinks and that was my lot. Anne was the one who could barely stand up. I crashed out at hers, then when Amy called I thought I'd have plenty of time to get to hers and back, but we hit traffic. I left a message for Anne to pick up my suit and come up with an excuse in good time, but she actually _did_ oversleep, the dozy mare."

"You could have warned Cheryl though!" Ste gives him a light shove. "If she'd known something she could have told me I didn't need to worry!"

"Oh come on, ye know I love my baby sister but she'd have let slip about the kids coming. Wouldn't have been able to help herself. I wanted to keep it as a surprise for ye."

"Right, well it definitely worked."

Brendan chuckles, handing him back his glass of champagne. "I gathered that when I got the angry voicemail."

"I feel dead bad about that now." Ste ducks his head, but his husband bends to tilt his chin up so he can see his face again.

"Hey. I can hardly blame ye after everything we've been through."

The reminder of their past doesn't linger for more than a second. "I love you," Ste tells him.

"Good. Love ye too."

They are interrupted from their moment by Cheryl tapping on her glass. "Speech!"

"Right, here goes," Brendan flashes him a smile. "Don't expect too much romance, Steven. I'll be saving that for later, if ye're lucky."

Ste winks at him, watching as his new husband commands the attention of the room in his usual style. "No complaints from me," he mumbles to himself, basking in the pleasure of being loved so publically.

And for being the only person that could get Brendan Brady to use the word 'romance'.

There's something very satisfying about that.


End file.
